


Routine

by my inner glow (misha_anon)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Community: spnkink_meme, Dry Humping, Masturbation, Other, Prompt Fill, Solo Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-14
Updated: 2013-10-14
Packaged: 2017-12-29 09:46:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 927
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1003931
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misha_anon/pseuds/my%20inner%20glow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel's morning routine begins with masturbation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Routine

**Author's Note:**

> _Fill for[this](http://spnkink-meme.livejournal.com/77204.html?thread=28163220#t28163220) prompt. _

Castiel discovered by accident how good it feels to grind his cock into something soft.  The first time he woke up with an erection and shifted, he was struck by the little jolt that ran up his spine like a live current.  Now it's just a part of his morning routine.

When consciousness starts to drift into the edges of Castiel's mind along with the morning sun, he takes his time in savoring the feeling of his body coming to life after a good night's sleep.  He yawns and stretches, blinking slowly in the light filtering through the crack between the motel curtains.  After taking a lazy look around - because _apparently_ it's unacceptable to enjoy your morning routine unless you're alone - he closes his eyes and focuses on the stiffness of his cock against the warm cotton sheet.

It starts slowly, a subtle shift of his hips that causes his breath to catch in his throat.  He does it again, dragging the sensitive head of his cock against the sheet, feeling the slight scratch of its threads along his shaft.  It doesn't take long before he's full on grinding, the muscles of his ass clenching to push his hips down harder and harder in search of that delicious friction.

It's not right, though, not quite.  Castiel growls in frustration and pauses, his breath coming a little ragged and the first prickle of sweat settling between his shoulder blades.  He repositions his body and opens his eyes, starting to grind again, more slowly.  It's still not right.  He swallows and tries to think, the tight knot of need in the pit of his stomach making it much more difficult than it should be.

Finally, he grabs the pillow from under his head and pushes it under his hips.  When he sinks against it , the feeling is perfect, heavenly.  The pillow is warm from his cheek, softer than the mattress when he starts to fuck against it slow and easy.  His cock is pressed against the tight warmth of his stomach on one side, the softness of the pillow on the other.

As he starts to roll his hips harder, he can feel the slick of precome coating the fabric beneath him, easing the way.  Castiel spreads his knees, kicking the blanket off and bracing himself to lift his hips a little higher and drop them down in a slow roll.  It's so good he can't help the moan that slips out between his parted lips.  Again and again, cock leaking slippery precome with each movement, he drags himself against the pillow.

He can feel the heat of building orgasm flowing up his spine, delicious and shivery and prickling the back of his neck with warmth.  He's gasping, fingers curled in the bottom sheet as he spreads himself out and holds on, his movements still excruciatingly slow.  He's experimented and discovered that slow, with a sinuous dip of his spine, each muscle clenching in turn to move his hips against whatever's beneath him is the way to go.

His eyes fall closed, lungs tight as he struggles to remember to breathe, his chin pressed hard into the bed as he arches.  His cock stiffens, fat and hot and pressed to his stomach on the downstroke in the filthywet mess he's made.  He sucks a hard breath, feels pins and needles run up his inner thighs as his balls draw up tight.

He holds himself like that, right on the edge, feeling the buzz of frantic need curl at the base of his skull and making him dizzy.  With a low groan of pleasure, he finally pushes himself over the edge, knees pushed out further until he's sprawled, stomach twitching, cock jerking, grinding obscenely into the slick cotton pillowcase.

The groans slide to panted little " _oh_ "s and " _ah_ "s as come spills from his slit, slicking his belly as he rubs against it.  It's hot and thick and he can feel his cock pulsing with each heartbeat as he rocks his hips again, subtle and easy and letting the relief of orgasm flow to every corner of his mind and body until his cock starts to soften in the mess he's made.  He can't stop himself shifting, his stomach and ass clenching reflexively, seeking to wring every possible bit of pleasure out of the moment.

When his muscles threaten to seize up, quivering as wave after wave of warm dizziness flows down his spine and to the tips of his toes, he finally stops.  He turns his head, resting his cheek to the bed, shivering at the way his stubble catches on it and it tickles his own jaw.  The mess under him is warm still, slick and welcoming and he relaxes with his hips canted and his ass in the air, feeling as though every bone in his body just splashed out his dick.

He smiles to himself, loosens his fingers from where he's pulled the bottom sheet away from the corners, and draws the first deep breath in what feels like hours.  It makes his head spin and the base of his spine buzz, sending his hips pushing forward one last time into his treasured wet pillow.  Just as he does every morning, Castiel puts getting up off for as long as he can, dozing a little and stretching and yawning every time he wakes up again.  Finally, he decides it's time to join the rest of the world.  The second best part of his morning routine is the scalding hot shower to wash away his mess.


End file.
